An Unexpected Midnight Rendezvous
by Wyldehart
Summary: February Fanfic challenge on Facebook. Read author's note for details. NSFW. Lighthearted fluffy-smut. Sensuality, sex, romance. Miriana Trevelyan stops by for a history lesson from Cullen but who teaches whom changes as she offers him so much more than expected. One-shot. Cullen's first-person POV.


An Unexpected Midnight Rendezvous

_**Author's note:**__ This story was written as a prompt in response to the article, "The 23 Sexiest Things You Do Without Even Knowing It" on in our Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers group on Facebook. The idea was to use at least three of the sexy things mentioned in the article in the story to create something sweet within our favorite OTP. Right now, I'm obsessed with Miriana Trevelyan and Cullen. The story is fluffy smut fluff. See how many things listed from the article you can find!_

The knock was soft, hesitant as if the knuckles brushed the wood lightly right before being committed to being struck. I rose from my desk in a hurried fashion, wondering who in their right mind would be up at this hour, much less seeking me out. I supposed it could have been Cassandra checking on me as she often did when I was suffering the self-inflicted curse of lyrium withdrawals.

But as I reached the door and swung it open, I saw not a statuesque, powerfully built warrior but a diminutive red-haired mage with striking violet eyes. Her back was turned, her bare feet carrying her away from me across the cold stone of the battlements. I bolted after her, startled by her unexpected nocturnal visit and reached for her arm with an outstretched hand, my mind only slightly aware of the door closing behind me. My strong touch on her arm gently impeded her forward progress, which seemed to please her, though I could not see her beautiful, sharp-boned face.

"Miriana? M-my lady? Is there something you needed?" I asked as she stopped and smiled shyly over her shoulder at me. Her fingers ran through her soft, wispy hair, the pale, blue moonlight deepening the hue and catching the shimmering strands like gossamer threads of starlight. She positively glittered before me.

Then, as she turned, my eyes traveled down her body, which was garbed in a thin, white shirt and soft black slacks of light silk that pooled around her bare feet. She wore nothing under the fine, nearly sheer, white muslin and I could see without looking too hard that the cold was having a very pleasing effect on her body—and that was having a pleasing effect on mine. The points of her nipples were quite dark and it took me a moment to avert my eyes properly.

"I thought you would be asleep by now," she murmured as she and I headed back to my office. I rushed ahead to get the door for her, a silly act of chivalry that made her smile and caress me with her velvet gaze. "I'm glad you aren't in bed. I could use some company—as well as advice."

"I was headed to bed but you've given me an excuse to stay up. Aren't you _cold_, my lady?" I asked with a shiver in my voice that might have been caused by the cold—or something else as my hand pushed the door closed behind us. Once we were inside the warm, wood-smoke scented embrace of my humble apartment on the battlements, I touched her cheek and lightly kissed her lips. Miriana had very recently bathed and scents of clove, lavender and sandalwood flooded my senses. I loved how she smelled like she looked; a personification of sensual, spiced purple. My cheeks flushed as I realized I was smiling like an adoring, lost puppy at her.

She tilted her chin, gazed up at me and smiled slyly, her hands clutched before her as she bit her lower lip and said, "It isn't obvious?" I was suddenly lost in that smile and the soft, lilac pools of liquid beauty that were her eyes. I could gaze into them forever and not give a damn about resurfacing. "Cullen? Hello-_ooo_!"

"I—what? Obvious…cold…" My eyes snapped back to her swaying breasts as she approached me, grinning like she knew I'd been caught in her trap. My mind was so painfully lost for the moment that all I could do was stare and absorb her beauty, her smile, her quirked eyebrow and swallow my awkward, boyish need to kiss her again.

"The weather, Cullen. Snow is on the wind and the air is frigid tonight," she explained, snapping me back to reality.

"Ah! Yes, right, the _weather_," I said as I watched her breasts, so perfect, bouncing, swaying with every step followed by a slight jiggle of her round bottom as she walked away from me, hips swaying for my benefit, I hoped, and pitched herself on the edge of the desk. "There…was something you desired, my lady?"

I ran my fingers through my hair nervously, the action causing the hem of my own loose sleep-shirt to lift, exposing a few inches of my muscular mid-drift above my sleep-pants, which barely clung to my narrow hips. I clutched them, fearful of losing them though I was vaguely aware that my state of semi-arousal would have kept them up. She did not fail to notice and smiled appreciatively at me as I immediately blushed before turning to the bookshelf in an effort to cover my embarrassment-and growing arousal. "Yes, actually. As Commander and a well-educated Templar, you've studied history and specifically war history, yes?"

"I have at that. Templars are well-versed in _most_ subjects. For myself, historical and military studies have been most dear. What do you require of me?" I heard myself saying proudly as I smiled awkwardly at her. I felt ridiculous, standing here in nothing but a pair of soft, barely-there breeches in dark, wine (that typically came off right before bed) and my plain, light-brown shirt, unbuttoned to my torso. I had been only moments away from slumber and was only delayed by a few last-minute orders I had to sign. "You need a historical war reference, my lady?" I asked as I turned to face the shelf once more, my fore-finger running along the spines of the many heavy tomes as I hunted down an appropriate book on historic wars.

"Mmm-hmm. Someone pointed out that the Battle of Three Rivers was actually a siege. It sounded…odd. I told them I would like to investigate it before I continued our conversation. He's a Chevalier from Val Royeaux so my honor and his _depend on this!_" she said with dramatic flair, imitating the man with the back of her hand flat against her forehead as I reached for a particular book and pulled it from the shelf.

This was my element, my joy, my satisfaction. This was where I thrived and excelled. My lust for knowledge, absorbing it and sharing it, was only recently eclipsed by a new desire, a desire so strong that my knees grew weak and my smile lingered long after our moments together had passed. Only recently, Miriana Trevelyan and I had become lovers and the experience was still very fresh in my mind. With only two other nights spent together, each thrilling encounter felt special and revealed wonderful, inspiring things about us both. Part of me wondered if this visit had a secondary purpose. That same part of me very much hoped it was. I never knew quite how to ask for it, though.

Bottling my desires and my fears, I placed the book on my desk and walked around to the other side where looked up at her as I sat down in my chair. To view the book with me, she had leaned over, giving me a straight shot of the vista of her entire torso through the sagging neckline of her thin blouse.

My eyes saw all of her in that moment and I started, pulled back and flushed hotly. I couldn't tell if it was intentional on her part or an accident of her attire. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Cullen? I could come back another time when I'm better dressed—" Miriana began in a voice that had a subtle hint of amusement. She knew better. It was then that I realized she was baiting me, for her fingers undid two more buttons, revealing even more of her for my hazel eyes to imbibe.

I took the bait and reached out far more quickly than expected and held her hand. "No-no, I'm fine, really! Fine! I just… I'm not used to this, being so close to you, so near you when you are so under-dressed, so beautiful, so alluring like you are. I mean, you are usually, even fully clothed but at this moment, I'm finding you to be…irresistible. I like it, I really appreciate you trusting me enough to come so late at night wearing what you are wearing for whatever reasons you're wearing it. But, well, I'm terrible with women, _being_ with women. I haven't much practice, I'm afraid." She once again leaned over and reached across the narrow gulf between us to kiss my lips softly, unexpectedly sliding her petal-soft skin against mine in an innocent yet sultry oral dance. I tasted her saliva, smelled the spiced floral scent of her recently-washed, wet hair and felt myself held in place by her beauty, both within and without.

When the moment passed, I looked up at her, once again struck by the softness of her gaze, smiled and asked, "The Battle of Three Rivers… Shall we see if this Chevalier is correct, my lady?"

"By all means, Commander…" she murmured and leaned forward for another long, hot kiss.

^&amp;^&amp;%^%*^$%*&amp;*^*_)(_)((^%&amp;^$%

Two hours later, we were up in my loft, drinking wine and laying on my bed together, our bodies still (mostly) clothed though her shirt was more open than before and mine was on the floor, her breasts parting away from one another to fade behind the diaphanous fabric of her shirt as she leaned her back against me. I confess that unbuttoning it more had been my doing, with her invitation of course, and my lips and tongue may have teased a ripe nipple or two in a fit of playfulness that almost led to lovemaking though the presumed nature of her late-night visit returned us to the task at hand. The wine was her idea after spotting the dusty bottles and a pair of forgotten glasses on a shelf. Two servings consumed already for each and a second bottle uncorked awaiting us, I pointed to a passage in the tome, "Historic Battles of Thedas," and grinned, the wine lessening my inhibitions as my hand made no effort to avoid an intimate brush with her skin.

"See that? The battle lasted twenty-two days and could, technically, be considered a siege save that the defenders were defending a well-supplied village that used one of the Three for both fresh water and a flour mill. While the Orlesian invaders slowly suffered the effects of their unbidden efforts to take the well-defended, walled village, the villagers went about life as usual, sometimes baking extra bread and flinging it over the walls at the hungry soldiers, many whom were mercenaries, for whom the bitter cold was taking a harsh toll. The 'siege' was really nothing of the sort, though the Orlesians swear up and down that their soldiers took pity on Three Rivers and left of their own volition. The reality is that many of the hired men in the army wandered off, the pay no longer an incentive or were hired by the village itself. The Orlesians eventually had too few loyalists remaining to persist in their so-called seige"

She poured me a glass of the deep red and handed it to me as she smiled upwards at my bewhiskered chin and asked, "What do I tell him, then?"

I tilted my head downward and kissed her inviting lips before replying, "Tell him that according to _your_ research, Three Rivers ended in a draw that could, only _technically_ and for a short time, be considered a siege but was really a standoff. Let him have his undeserved victory if he prefers it and gloat knowing what you know now, which is the truth."

"And how I came about it?" she chuckled against me.

"Mmm… Bribed it right out of me, you did. I don't think I'll ever get used to having such an amazing beauty share my bed… You realize this is only the second time you've been in it with me."

She rose up on her knees and straddled my stomach with her thighs, the smooth motion barely jostling her wine as she settled herself in place. Then Miriana opened her blouse completely with her free hand while sipping her wine with the other and met my eyes. No matter how many times I get to see her beautiful body, I will never fail to be reduced to a pool of incoherence as I was now. Her breasts were still just barely veiled but I had an unobstructed view of her smooth skin, the taut muscles of her stomach and the handful of faint scars that crisscrossed her pale skin, including a dark, raised one that was the result of a wound that had nearly killed her in the aftermath of Haven during her escape. That injury still haunted my mind, the memory of her limp, chilled body in my arms as I carried her through the driving snow to safety.

Timidly, I reached out with my fingers and brushed those scars, some new, most of them older then pushed aside her shirt and closed my eyes as I allowed my hands to caress her breasts and blindly fondle her nipples as I contentedly drank my wine. I did not need to see to know how her body reacted to my tactile manipulations.

Stirred by desire, my lady leaned over me, her mouth covering mine in a kiss that tasted heavily of the wine we'd been drinking, with a passion I answered in an open, very lustful kiss of my own. Our glasses slipped to the floor as our arms went around one another, thankfully without shattering and her shirt soon joined mine, flung across the room in a fit of giggles. She rose up and stood on the bed above me, granting me a delicious view of her pubic region as she slid her pants down her thighs and, with my help, kicked them off the bed. Then Miriana bounced down beside me and stripped away my own red trousers, which were fully tented by my erect cock and I tossed them so far they fell down into my office. Laughing, she jumped up from the bed and threw all of our clothes down the ladder so that pants and shirt either got hung up or pooled at its base.

Then, grinning broadly, her hands rand down her body as she faced me, the long digits of her perfect hands teasing herself, sensually dipping into the cleft of her cunt and stroking the hard, red points that tipped her upswept breasts. I reached out to her and pulled her into my embrace, onto the bed where our legs and arms entangled as she sought to release the sexual tension that had been building since she first arrived.

We'd made love a few times already but it was still so intense that each visit began awkwardly as if we were starting over, neither one certain if the other was willing but hoping they wouldn't come off being too forward on the approach. This visit tonight, for example, was about more than the Chevalier; it was a visit to seduce, a subtle, sly approach that built one layer of sexual need upon another and another until it could no longer be contained, the research merely an excuse and the thin clothing an invitation. But I wasn't a barbarian, I wasn't going to rush into it and _take_ her just because she was there and wearing as little as possible. Even now, I held myself in check as I had to be certain, the invitation 'engraved in gold' and presented, as they say, on a platter. I was that inept with women.

But Miriana had spotted the wine and suggested we go someplace more comfortable, where a brazier chased away the drafts and warmed the room. Several candles lit and two glasses of wine later, I was skimming the book with my eyes while teasing her breast with my tongue at the same time, her laughter filling the room as she tugged off my shirt.

This was my engraved invitation.

This was what I needed from her to know I was welcome.

Now, hours later, I pushed her back against the pillows and spread her legs, my mouth devouring her sweetest spot, sending shivers down her spine and causing her to grow deliciously wet with a fluid like salted honey to my eager tongue. I thought about how I wished I could be forward like the Iron Bull was with women and, more recently, Dorian. His advice, "Drop your pants and show her you wanna play, you know, stick it _out_ there," just wasn't _my_ way. But I needed to be less awkward, less pathetic without losing my penchant for romance.

After a bit of skilled teasing with my tongue, I was rewarded when her cries filled the room, igniting my own need and setting my passions ablaze. While she was still in the embrace of her multi-tiered orgasm, I rose to my knees and rested the backs of her thighs against my shoulders as I thrust myself deep inside her snug, flooded hole. All around my erection, her muscles convulsed and surged with the final waves of her fulfillment. It only took a few slow, deliberate plunges of my cock to deliver me into my own personal euphoria. I cried out, moaned and collapsed against her, my sweat mingling with hers as I laid my cheek between her breasts, her hand curving around the back of my head, fondling my wet, blond curls.

I breathed softly against her chest as I absently fondled her body. "I wish I wasn't so awkward about making love to you, Miriana. I never know what to say for fear of coming across too forward or seeming like a cad who only wants you for your body," I whispered against her in a hushed, breathless voice.

"Cullen, my love?" she said tenderly as I met her eyes in the lingering glow of the candles and the soft light of early dawn as it lit up a window.

"Hmm?"

"Just be _you_. Don't change for me or for anyone. _I love you_, even when you are awkward, sweet you. But if it helps, anytime we're together is permission to take me any way you want me. Fast, slow, sensual, passionate… I don't care. I want to be with you however you will have me. And you know, I like these times we take our time and slowly build up to it, the teasing, the flirting, the shy smiles… It's quite…_sexy_," she explained in between soft kisses and sweet caresses.

Relieved beyond mere words, I closed my eyes and sighed with a happy smile. "I love you so much right now, I do not know how to adequately express it. What you said… That—means _a lot_ to me," I said with a smile. "So, anytime I want you and your smile is especially appealing, I can, say, grab your bottom and pull you aside for a bit of frisky play, even in the middle of the day, hm?" I said with a playful demonstration.

Miriana giggled and nodded enthusiastically. "Whatever, whenever, wherever the mood hits you, I am yours," she replied.

"Maker's _breath_! I'll be bow-legged before long!" I declared dramatically, flopping over beside her to mimic her earlier Orlesian courtier in mid-swoon.

"Oh, the _torment_! Whatever shall we do…!" she gasped in the same vein.

"You can make love to me again," I suggested as I pulled her on top of me with a big grin on my face that was reflected in her happy expression.

"You _cannot_ be ready, certainly _not_! It's only been a few minutes!" she laughed with a wicked expression that matched my own.

"No, not just yet but therein lies the fun of getting me up and ready to play again, don't you agree?" I replied as I took her hand and rested it against my flaccid phallus. She gripped me tight and inched her way down my body, her eyes on mine.

"I hope you don't have plans today, Commander, because I'm locking you away and using your body until you cannot take it anymore…" she purred as her lips teased my nipples and the smooth, mostly hairless skin of my chest and torso, her eyes seductively gleaming as they held fast to mine.

There was nothing awkward about the rest of our day together or the nights that followed after it, though Miriana did sometimes slip by late in the night and request a "history lesson" by name, which was a hint to prolong our flirtation until we were near to bursting with lust. It was a fun game we played where one of us always came out on top and we both always…came. Though who was the teacher and who was taught was never quite obvious.

One thing that I realized would never change, for as long as we were together, I knew she would always know how to make me blush and stammer shyly. It was her way, Miriana's particular gift to catch me off guard and amaze me with her ability to keep our relationship inspired and exciting. I never got bored with her in my life.

Oh!

And as for the Chevalier, he found himself face to face with an old friend of mine, a veteran of Three Rivers who fought that long ago battle as a mercenary who defected from the Orlesian's side. They shared drinks and the Orlesian shocked everyone by accepting the old vet's version of events with little resistance because it did prove him right, sort of, and wrong, sort of. Sort of was apparently good enough for him.

Fin


End file.
